


shoot me from space (and into your arms)

by birthdayblur



Category: Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Alternate Universe - Space, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff, Gun Violence, M/M, Self-Discovery, Slow Burn, seongwu has a secret, there really isn't any violence though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-06-09 22:22:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15277437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/birthdayblur/pseuds/birthdayblur
Summary: Officer Hwang Minhyun is marooned on a wasteland planet, with a space pirate that he’s been aching to arrest.But he soon discovers thatenemyis a strong word, and this charming Ong Seongwu might not be as much of a scoundrel as he thinks.





	shoot me from space (and into your arms)

**Author's Note:**

> prompt 30.
> 
>  
> 
> hello!  
> i just wanted to give a few definitions before starting
> 
> plasma gun - like a normal gun but with plasma/energy bullets instead of normal bullets
> 
> the empire / imperial [...] - not the same as in star wars! just think of it as some big, overarching governing body
> 
>  
> 
> have fun reading!

 

 

 

 

 

 

_prologue._

 

 

 

Everything is too quiet in the space pirate’s ship.

The _Constellation_ is big- a lot bigger than he’s used to, _expensive_ , he might add.

Sungwoon had gone back in twenty minutes ago, with promises that he’ll “ _catch that scoundrel soon!”_ , while Minhyun stayed back with the rest of the team, undoing each of the twenty-one space pirates’ laser cuffs, and distributing them evenly in the holding cells in their own Imperial police ship.

It had taken time to record each of their names, inserting tracker chips, and uploading everyone to the system. It was especially difficult with them chanting their captain’s name, this _Ong Seongwu_ , who somehow managed to elude capture in the initial round up.

The procedure of arrest is tedious, but essential, so Minhyun had worked through each space pirate systematically. He didn’t pay much attention to the missing twenty-second, knowing that the captain was now alone in the _Constellation_ , and Sungwoon could be trusted with apprehending the remaining space pirate by himself.

What Minhyun hadn’t expected, twenty minutes later, was for unknown laughter to come through the earpiece instead of his partner’s voice.

As Minhyun makes his way through the ship, he notices that it’s still in darkness, a tactic he knows space pirates use to make the white uniform of the Imperial Officers more obvious in their ship. The only light is coming from the strip of plasma canisters at the top of his plasma gun, the blue glow doing nothing to calm his erratic heartbeat.

He makes his way through a balcony overlooking the hull on one side, filled with stolen cargo. The opposite wall is lined with doors containing now-empty bedrooms. At the end of the corridor, the door to the helm is partially slid open.   

When Minhyun crosses the threshold, he briefly sees a figure in loose black clothing standing at the far side of the room.

Then he hears the blast of a plasma bullet.

“Drop your gun, scoundrel!” Minhyun yells, moving towards the silhouette back-lit from the glow of the control board. The man has his gun pointed sideways, and Minhyun’s eyes quickly flicker to see Sungwoon lying on the ground.

“If you were going to shoot me, Officer, you would have already done so, before I shot your comrade over there,” the man replies, voice strangely friendly, as if he doesn’t have his back to a space officer pointing a gun to his head. 

The man continues, gesturing at the side with his gun. “Don’t worry, it was only a scratch.”

Minhyun looks over at Sungwoon, uniform reflecting the light from the control board, and notices that there’s only a small singe at the shoulder of his uniform. But he doesn’t know what else could’ve made him unconscious.

Taking a step forward, he opens his mouth to shout another command when the captain unfurls his hand and drops the gun, letting it clatter to the ground. He still can’t see his face clearly, but what he _can_ see is the whites of his teeth as his lips curl into a smile.

“You’re welcome to pat me down, Officer. I’ll let you know that you’ll find another one… below my hips.”

Minhyun’s face flushes at the insinuation, and he hesitates for a second, allowing the space pirate time to turn around and survey him with an arch of an eyebrow. The darkness of the room lets Minhyun see only the edges of rather well-placed features, but he knows that the glow of the plasma gun in his hands leaves his own face exposed.

“You’re not at all what I was expecting.” The captain works his eyes up Minhyun’s body, to his face. “It makes me wonder, what would happen, if we weren’t standing on opposite sides?”

Minhyun swallows and moves forward, brushing aside the remarks as shallow attempts to shake his concentration. He brings the plasma gun right up to the captain’s forehead, but immediately frowns when he finds that his own thoughts seem to align with the space pirate’s, because the face that he sees is not at all what he was expecting.

However, he shakes his head, gritting his teeth to spit back a biting remark. “I will never be on your side.”

The captain only laughs, his gaze unwavering. “Oh, but my side is so much more interesting.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

_one._

 

 

 

Dreams are where others say they experience what they truly desire.

So it’s curious why others dream about space, and yet Hwang Minhyun dreams about a man.

There’s a pedantic beeping as Minhyun wakes up, sweat glistening in the roots of his hair. It’s 5am, right on the dot, and he reaches out to turn off the alarm. He’s not greeted by silence, however, only the steady humming of the mainframe keeping the spaceship alive.

He can still feel the ghost of the plasma gun in his hands, and when he shuts his eyes, there’s a lingering outline of a focused gaze, a strong cut of jaw, and an easy smile.

Minhyun staggers out of bed, with his mind still muddled with the dream, and there’s a dull bang as he lands on his hands, foot caught in the blanket. He swallows his pain, brushing himself off to put on his uniform. This is Minhyun’s best quality, others say, to ignore disorder and focus on the task at hand.

So that’s probably why, instead of at the Imperial Space Station training the new recruit, he’s somewhere deep in the beta quadrant of the second galaxy.

He calls it field experience.

“So… recap on what we’re doing again?” asks Woojin, trying not to meet the eyes of the man who’s just entered the cockpit.

Minhyun tears his gaze away from the radar panel to give the new recruit a disappointed frown. “I’ve only been away for a few hours and you’ve already forgotten, Officer Park?”

“No! Definitely not, hyung. We’re going to… catch… some space pirates,” Woojin answers.

Minhyun doesn’t attempt to hide the frustration in his sigh, which reverberates throughout the walls of the metal cockpit. It had annoyed him to no end when Chief Yoon decided that his temporary partner would be somebody fresh out of the academy, purely on the basis that he’s known Woojin since he was young. Considering his own track record, he would've thought that he'd be paired up with somebody much more experienced.

Unless Jisung had thought that he needed some downtime in the station because of what happened during the mission last week. And if that’s the case, he should’ve been clearer, because Minhyun’s now on his way to rectify that small slip-up. 

“Remember, it’s _Officer Hwang_ while we’re on duty. And we’re going to apprehend a space pirate captain who slipped through my fingers last week,” Minhyun reminds.

“Oh. Of course,” Woojin laughs nervously. “Just keep doing what you’re doing. Don’t mind me.”

Minhyun brings his attention back to the radar panel. According to the mainframe, they’ve already reached the location of where the _Constellation_ was spotted a few hours ago.

“Looks like nothing but a few asteroids, Officer Hwang,” Woojin chirps.

Minhyun shakes his head. “Yes, some of these are asteroids, but this,” he says, pointing at an object with a barely noticeable symmetry, “this is the ship.”

Woojin squints. “Really? But the density and the material…”

“This space pirate is a bit... peculiar. It seems like he has some sort of technology that can fool even the most sophisticated police radar.”

“Oh, that’s must be why you want to catch him so bad, Hwang Minhyun, perfect record about to be broken by-” Woojin freezes when Minhyun crosses his arms. “I’ll shut up now.”

Minhyun presses down the communications button to send an external transmission. “This is Imperial ship A3-9O1, requesting permission to board. Please send confirmation. Over.”

He turns back to Woojin, explaining, “If you don’t remember your galactic codes, it’s the law to communicate your intentions when faced with another ship.”

Minhyun unclips his harness, climbing out of the chair to smooth out his uniform. “Luckily, Imperial ships don’t need to actually wait for permission. Now according to the heat scanners, there’s only one individual onboard, so I'll be going alone. Officer Park, I trust that you can maneuver us over to the ship’s hatch.”

“Yeah, I was a pretty good pilot in the academy, I mean, not as good as you of course, but,” Woojin turns to call out over his shoulder as Minhyun leaves the cockpit, without sparing him a second glance. “Yeah, just trust me!”

Minhyun stretches his arms out, feeling the satisfying release of the tension built up over the past week. It had been onerous, to say the least, interrogating the crew of the _Constellation_ over the whereabouts of their captain, travelling to multiple planets in vain and, as a last resort, pouring over lines and lines of data from the various scanners scattered throughout the Empire’s galaxies.

It had been onerous, as is most of the investigative paths Minhyun chooses to take, but nothing could beat the exhilarating feeling of finally spotting a ship fitting the exact same description of the _Constellation_ , in between the scans of various cargo loaders.

 _‘There isn’t a single space pirate who has eluded my capture,’_ Minhyun muses, brushing his fingers across the multiple accolades fixed to the wall of the corridor. _‘At least, after today.’_

When he reaches the hatch of the airlock, he puts on his breathing mask and disgruntledly pulls out the plasma gun from its recess in the wall. It doesn’t help that he always hesitates before pulling the trigger, having been drilled into him that violence should be taken as a last resort, especially since the Empire can’t afford anymore uprisings. It also doesn’t help that the space pirate captain immediately picked up on that weakness.

“I’ve positioned our ship next to their hatch, Officer Hwang,” Woojin’s voice crackles in his ear. “And I’ll be happy to provide you with some background music, in case you get lonely out there. _I’m feeling so energetic-_ ”

Minhyun pulls out his earpiece before he can be subjected to anymore of Woojin’s screeching.

When he opens the hatch, the vastness of the space pirate’s ship looms above him. From here, he can see the blackened tear in its exterior from when they had chased it after the captain had gotten away, purple sparks dancing across the exposed wires. At this closer angle, Minhyun realises that it’s probably now on its last stretch.  

Bridging the gap between the two hatches, Minhyun notices that everything is exactly the same as the last time he was here. It’s still very dark, which is the norm for space pirates, if they’re trying to hide. But considering that the ship isn’t moving, and the hatch had been willingly opened, it leans more towards peculiarity.

He pulls up the ship’s 3D plans from the navigational device on his wrist, having made a quick scan when he was travelling through the various rooms of the ship previously. Minhyun sighs at the three small figures in the helm on the hologram display, captured when he had made a scan of the room right after arresting the captain.

He doesn’t know why he had slipped up in procedure, and tried to bring both an unconscious Sungwoon and the arrested space pirate back to the ship at the same time. Perhaps it was because this one was particularly easy with words, and he couldn’t trust leaving Sungwoon alone in the helm.

As he makes his way down the the corridor, the entrance to the helm emerges out of the gloom. A bead of sweat runs down his forehead, which he hurriedly wipes away, not allowing himself to be nervous at the prospect of what could be behind the door. He raises his plasma gun.

Minhyun freezes when he hears laughter, and the conversation of _two_ people coming from behind the door. The grip on his gun slips. He dives to catch it before it can hit the ground, and tries to steady his heartbeat as he crouches there without breathing too loud. Putting his earpiece back in, he whispers, “Officer Park, requesting backup. I believe there are two pirates on the ship...”

The sound of crackly laughter reaches his ears, in sync with the same laughter coming from the helm. Woojin’s voice carries through. “Oh you’re here hyung? This guy’s great!”

Minhyun almost drops his plasma gun again.

A grandiose sound, slightly muffled, comes from behind the door. “Yes! Officer Hwang is finally here.” Then it slides open, revealing the space pirate captain with outstretched arms, black clothes billowing from the rush of air. “How are you today? And why are you on the floor? It’s kind of dirty.”

“Captain Ong,” Minhyun says through gritted teeth, ignoring the hand offered to him, to try and push himself upwards. His head spins from the ring of the familiar voice, and he tilters, bringing a sudden rush to his head which causes him to fall forward, into the space pirate’s arms. His plasma gun clatters to the floor.

“Woah. Are you okay there?” Seongwu asks, brows raised in concern.

“Damn, Cap, you even know to call him formally,” Woojin’s voice echoes from both Minhyun’s earpiece, and through the control board in the helm. “That’s like, his kink or something.”

Minhyun pushes himself away from the embrace, hurriedly picking up his plasma gun. Pointing it at the captain, he commands, with his voice as steady as possible, grip slightly shaking, “Put your hands up.”

Seongwu raises his palms, but takes a step forward, which causes Minhyun to instinctively take one back.

“I thought you didn’t like guns, Officer,” Seongwu smiles, taking another step forward. “Are you here to arrest me?”

“I’m not obligated to answer the words of a _marauder_ ,” Minhyun spits out. But his palms are sweaty, his grasp on the plasma gun threatening to slip once more, and then his back hits the wall of the corridor.

“Marauder? That one sounds pretty nice. It’s definitely better than scoundrel.” Seongwu tilts his head slightly, gaze dropping from Minhyun’s eyes, to his trembling hands. “You seem nervous, Officer. Should I make this easier for you?”

Minhyun’s aim jerks upwards as Seongwu begins to slowly lower his palms, which then ends with the captain bringing them in front of his face, wrists together. “Arrest me.”

Minhyun lets out his held breath, and then reaches into his back pocket for his laser-cuff device. “Why?”

“I think I’m allowed to keep some secrets, Officer,” Seongwu responds, as the lasers begin to encircle his wrists, the resulting light pulsating before their eyes. The glow highlights the features of his face, the same one that’s been lingering in Minhyun's dreams for the past week.

“Your secrets won’t be secrets much longer, Captain,” Minhyun barely lets out, scraps of his dreams floating back from the depths of his memories. “The Empire sees everything.”

Seongwu chuckles, gaze wandering. “Then I wonder if the Empire is seeing what I’m seeing. Because your ears are pretty when they’re red.”

Minhyun tries to respond, but the words catch in his throat. His lungs are finally saved when his earpiece crackles to life.

“Hey, so um, not that I _want_ to interrupt whatever you two are having there, but hyung, I mean, Officer Hwang, the Commissioner kind of wants to speak to you. I mean _needs_ to speak to you. You don’t really have a choice.”

“That’s alright, Woojin!” Seongwu calls out, towards the control board in the helm. “I’m sure Officer Hwang and I can spend a lot more time together later.”

“Ooh,” Woojin snickers. “Wait. But what will I do?”

Minhyun shakes his head, willing the steel back into his eyes, and then tugs the laser-cuff device to pull Seongwu close, just enough for their noses to almost touch. “I would rather die than spend more time with you.”

Seongwu doesn’t falter from his gaze, only smiling in response.  

“Damn, I think you just got rejected, Cap,” Woojin guffaws in his ear.

 

 

 

The walk back to his ship is excruciatingly long. Minhyun tries to ignore the captain’s raised cheeks, and the hammering in his chest, as he pushes Seongwu forward.

“The Empire will send a team to recover your ship within the month. If you somehow make it out of the Vortex, it’ll be available to pick up on Garta.”

The captain’s cheeks drop, and Minhyun gives him another push to get him to start walking again. “Am I allowed to speak, Officer?” Seongwu asks after a while.

Minhyun raises an eyebrow. “What is it?”

“How are my boys?”

Minhyun pauses at the unexpected question, but then almost chuckles, recalling the hours spent in the interrogation room. “They were fiercely loyal. They didn’t even care that you abandoned them. But they’ll get off with lighter sentences now that you’re captured.”

“Ah,” is the only word Seongwu utters, and the rest is silence.

When they make it back to the hatch, Minhyun can see Woojin standing beyond the airlock, through the window. “Why is he…”, he grumbles, giving him a glare, and when Woojin shifts his grin from Seongwu to Minhyun, his eyes immediately widen and he disappears.

After pulling the second breathing mask over Seongwu’s face, Minhyun propels both of them forward into the ship’s airlock. “This is the last you’ll see of the _Constellation_ for a while, Captain,” he says, but he doesn’t let him turn back. Seongwu doesn’t try to anyway.

After pushing Seongwu down to the cockpit, he raises an eyebrow at Woojin who’s sitting sheepishly. “Sorry for leaving my post, Officer Hwang, uh, but the Commissioner is on the line, so you better hurry.” He bounces up from his chair to take the laser-cuff device off him.

“Don’t let me catch you talking to the prisoner, Officer Park,” Minhyun asserts, bringing his focus to the control board as Woojin hurriedly leads Seongwu down the corridor.

“Aw what!” he hears in response.

Minhyun settles in his chair, taking a deep breath, before pressing down the communications button to start the transmission with the head of the Imperial Police Force. The stern face, lined and wrinkled with years of experience, appears on the main HUD.  

“This is Officer Hwang Minhyun, calling from Imperial ship A3-9O1,” Minhyun reports, straightening his shoulders. “I’m sorry for the delay, Commissioner. The prisoner is now in our ship’s holding.”

“Good,” the man on the screen replies, lips pressed together. “I have another mission for you, Officer Hwang, but first you must send me a scan of Ong Seongwu’s face for confirmation.”

Minhyun tries not to let his own face betray an expression of surprise. He doesn’t know why the Commissioner had been so intent on capturing this particular space pirate, not even letting Chief Yoon know. “Of course, I’ll do it now, Commissioner. I’ll contact you again in a few minutes.”

He makes his way down the corridor, where he can already hear Woojin’s prattling and Seongwu’s laugh. “What did I say about the talking?” he says as he rounds the corner to the holding cells, causing Woojin to jump in surprise.

“O-oh, just making sure he’s locked up tight,” Woojin stammers, jogging away towards the bedroom wing.

Minhyun turns back to Seongwu, whose hands are curled around the bars, expression smug.

“Don’t be too happy to see me, Captain, it’ll be the last time before we arrive at the station.” Minhyun raises his wrist to scan Seongwu’s face using the navigational device. It’s then that he notices the trio of moles on his right cheek, which show up clearly on the resulting hologram of Seongwu’s face.

“Interesting marks,” he muses, looking up to survey Seongwu’s cheek. “Is that why you called your ship the _Constellation_?”

The other only shakes his head, smile slightly wavering. “No, it’s to remind myself that even the strongest bodies have the ability to come crumbling down.”

There’s a prickle of heat on his forehead when he realises how close he is, and something in Seongwu’s gaze makes Minhyun feel a tinge of discomfort, but before he can dwell on it, the device on his wrist buzzes to indicate an incoming transmission. “Please don’t distract Officer Park from his duties,” he sighs, as he turns away.

When Minhyun reaches the cockpit, he quickly sends across the scan of Seongwu’s face, before accepting the call.

“Officer Hwang, what I’m about to say right now does not leave this room,” the man utters as soon as his face appears on the HUD.

Minhyun swallows. “Yes, Commissioner.”

“There is a planet in the delta quadrant of the fifth galaxy that I need you to go to. It is vital that this is done in utmost secrecy, and only by you. Expect my call again as soon as you send over your ship’s coordinates confirming that you’ve reached the planet.”

“Of course,” Minhyun replies, a million questions in his mind, but none escaping his lips. “I’ll get started on the journey as soon as I drop the prisoner off at the station.”

The Commissioner nods, before the screen turns off.

Minhyun leans back in his chair. The fifth galaxy is usually off limits to the normal spacefarer, the connecting wormholes closed by Imperial blockades. It’s been a while since he’s gone there, the last time being to help fill the shifts of one of the Imperial Mappers when there was a severe shortage last year. 

However, it’s the secrecy surrounding the nature of the mission which confuses him, having never been tasked with anything non-official or done anything off the book.

The feeling of unsettlement grows, but Minhyun never questions orders from the higher-ups, so he records the coordinates of the planet which are sent to him, and then deletes the recordings of the transmission with the Commissioner.

“Officer Park,” he addresses over the ship’s intercom. “You can come back to the cockpit now.”

Woojin’s expression is sullen when he walks in. “What did you tell the Cap? He won’t talk to me anymore,” sulking, before remembering who he’s talking to. “Nevermind.”

He ignores the fact that Seongwu had actually listened to him, to inform Woojin of the change in situation. “Officer Park, I’ll be dropping you and the captain at the station first. The Commissioner’s asked me to do something for him which I have to do alone.”

“Oh nice,” Woojin lights up. “Something cool?”

“No, nothing like that. Just an errand.” Minhyun forces an apologetic smile, the unfamiliar gesture startling the other. “You can probably guess how the Commissioner is. The only thing is that I’ll be back in a week.”

Woojin’s face quickly falls, his mouth forming the shape of an _o_. “A week? Ah, it’s just a week right? I’ll guess I’ll just tag along with Officer Kim and Officer Kang until you come back? Yeah?”

“Maybe you can ask Chief Yoon to accompany you, I’m sure his joints need a little oiling,” Minhyun jokes. His attempt at making the situation a little lighter doesn’t quite work out, considering Woojin’s trembling bottom lip, so he sighs instead. “I really am sorry, Officer Park. I know that this is your probational week, but I’ll try not to be too honest when I report back to Chief Yoon?”

“Wait, what does that mean?” Woojin asks, his frown now turning into a different type, one with his brow furrowed.

“Or… ok, I’ll share with you some tips,” Minhyun offers, trying his best to comfort the other. “I don’t want to feel guilty if you don’t pass.”

“Uh, thanks, Officer Hwang?”

He tries not to make the direction of the conversation any more south. “Let's just get started.”

 

 

 

After a brutal session of attempting to correct Woojin’s behaviour, Minhyun drifts off to bed. It’s probably the place he’s the least at, most often falling asleep at his desk in the station, or in the chair of the cockpit.

He can only hear the slight whirring of the ship’s mainframe as he floats off, arms resting by his sides. Then he’s rushing through space, ears filled, and flooded in the light of exploding stars. Celestial bodies crash, and then his own body crashes, against another body, barely picking up the whispering of names. And his fingers brush against a mark, and the mark glows, turning into a constellation, which he gazes at, simply in awe.

 

 

 

“Uh, then,” Woojin begins, standing there stiffly. “I’ll miss you?”

The police hangar is empty of people, everyone on the force either on patrol or at their desks. Minhyun’s voice echoes as he speaks. “Just remember what I told you, Officer Park, and everything will be alright.”

He turns to Seongwu, who’s now back in his laser cuffs, comfortable in his posture. “Captain. Hopefully this is the last time we see each other.”

Seongwu nods his head slightly. “I only hope that you remember everything I’ve told you, Officer,” he replies, gaze flickering to Minhyun’s ears.

“Okay, I need to go now, Officer Hwang!” Woojin pipes in, muttering as he pulls Seongwu away. “I can’t believe he didn’t let me pee in his ship, ten minutes until landing is ten minutes too long.”

Minhyun lets out a sigh of relief at the captain's capture, and then sets about re-filling the fuel, patching up various areas of the ship, and restocking the food supply. He could ask an engineer, but Minhyun prefers to do things like this himself.

As he prepares himself for takeoff, his mind whirs with the prospect of not reporting his intention to leave, or his mission, to the station’s control tower. Distracted, he belatedly realises that he’s forgotten to close the hatch.

Once he’s reconfirmed that everything’s in order, he quickly updates his ship’s plans with new scan data, and then sets off. His ship bursts up into the void, and he can’t help but marvel at how the stars look a little closer.

But his chest feels a little hollow when he looks at the empty chair beside him. Shaking his head, he re-checks his coordinates for the wormhole into the fifth galaxy.

Then he sets the ship on auto-pilot so he can sleep in his chair. In space, there’s no difference between night and day, but the control board says it’s been eighteen hours since he last woke up.

So he lets himself dream.

 

 

 

 

 

 

_two._

 

 

 

“This is Imperial ship A3-9O1. I should have permission to pass from the Imperial Commissioner. Over.”

Minhyun drums his fingers on the control board as he waits for the answering transmission from the Imperial blockade. It’s been a lonely four days travelling to the wormhole, with most of the shortcuts closed off to discourage the average spacefarer from these areas. He’s also been refusing Woojin’s requests for communications, in case he accidentally reveals something about the secret mission. A small part of him also doesn’t want to experience that sudden feeling of silence after ending a call.

His command chair in the cockpit has been his second bed for the last few days. Even though he knows that he’s alone in the ship, he still has this strange inclination to follow protocol, and not leave his post. It’s probably due to the many late nights at the academy memorising the galactic codes, and drilling himself into becoming the best space officer that he could possibly be.

And though he’s been lonely most of the time, a certain space pirate captain has been keeping him company in his dreams. It’s ridiculous, he knows, but he’s silently glad.

A voice crackles through the communications panels, snapping him out of his thoughts. “Imperial ship A3-9O1. This is the Imperial Blockade. Moving now. You may pass.”

“Thanks, Imperial Blockade. How has your day been? Over,” Minhyun answers, voice cracking from its lack of use.

There’s no response. He knows that these transmissions are automated and the ships are remotely controlled anyway.

Maneuvering himself through the separating line of spaceships, he prepares to enter the wormhole. It’s always a terrible experience, but he’s usually had someone next to him to show a brave face to.

He goes through the usual list of things to do when entering a wormhole, starting with checking the calibrations of the systems, and putting up the negative energy shields. Then he starts the journey.

The whole ship shakes, and the quiet hum of the mainframe increases into a roar as systems work to accommodate for the shifts in magnetic force. He closes his eyes, knowing that the psychedelic colours of the wormhole only adds to the spinning in his head. Through the deafening noise, he vaguely picks up a dull thud, but he brushes it off as Woojin probably leaving something unsecured in his room.

Then the noise stops, and he’s drifting once again in space. Blinking himself out of the dizziness, he re-inputs the coordinates for the planet that the Commissioner had sent him. It’ll be another few minutes until he reaches his destination.

Minhyun decides that it’ll be okay to leave his post, just to check what fell down in Woojin’s room. Maybe the effects of the wormhole scrambled his head a bit, but the prospect of finally ending the journey makes him want to stretch his legs.

Strolling down the corridor, he raises his arms above his head to feel the satisfying crack of his shoulders. He turns to the bedroom wing and checks Woojin’s room, but everything seems in place.

Furrowing his brow, he starts walking down to the opposite wing where the holding cells are.

Then he feels his stomach lurch.

Rushing back to the cockpit, the body of the ship rattling around him, he sees that it’s already entered a planet’s atmosphere.

This isn’t the tree-filled farming colony that he’d read about while searching the planet in the Empire’s database. Instead all he sees is orange, and nothing else.

“No,” Minhyun coughs, strapping himself back into his command chair. He hasn’t gone through the necessary protocols for descent yet, with his ship’s antenna still out, the shields not put up, but autopilot seems locked on this planet, and the mainframe won’t respond.

The ship has already made it past the lines of clouds, and his eyes widen when he realises that he’s about to crash. There’s nothing else that he can do but brace himself, and he squeezes his eyes shut, wrapping his arms around his chest and bringing his neck in.

The last thing he knows is the ear-splitting sound of rushing air and then a _bang!_ that shakes him to his core.

His head succumbs to its spinning.

 

 

 

He’s woken from his daze as he inhales acid. Trying to swallow, his throat closes on a feeling like fire, a choked guttural sound coming out instead. His eyes sting as he open them, vision hazed by a cloud of smoke. Everything blurs, and then they shut.

The next time he opens them he sees Ong Seongwu’s face. ‘ _A dream,’_ he thinks, as he starts to drift back, vision blurred around the edges, the three moles burnt into the back of his lids.

He doesn’t know how much time has passed, a few minutes, or a few hours, when liquid is splashed down his throat, and then something wet and damp is thrown over his face. His mind slips in and out of consciousness, and he tries to lift his hand, tries to grab at air, but his arm just flails about uselessly.

His mind shuts.  

 

 

 

When Minhyun comes to, the first thing he feels is warmth. Shaking his head, blinking, the cloth falls from his face, unseen by him, on the ground. After his vision focuses, his mouth falls open.

Before him are mountains of orange sand, stretching as far as the eye can see, into a teal sky. The sun shines strongly on his body through the window of the cockpit, but his neck cracks in protest when he tries to look down.

A strangled, whimpering sound escapes from his lungs, and his breathing stutters as he slowly closes his eyes, and then opens them, only to be greeted by the same view.

“S-seong-” he manages out, but then he closes his eyes with a choked sob when he recalls that it was all a dream.

Minhyun slowly bends his fingers, working through the ache, and then moves to unclip the harness with a long exhale, setting his lungs free. The mainframe is switched off, and when he finally presses the communications button after steadying his trembling, there’s only static.

He swallows again, and forces himself to climb out, only to collapse on the floor in a flood of sunlight. The navigational device on his wrist hits the ground first, and the vibration shoots up his arm. Scratching the surface with his nails, he pushes himself up until he’s kneeling, and then claws at the chair until he’s standing.

There’s a dull ache all over his body, but no subsequent spikes of pain. Looking out again to the barren wasteland, a niggling voice tells him that, _maybe it was better to die,_ but he pushes it away into the recesses of his mind.

Stumbling down the corridor, the first thing he notices is that both hatches of the airlock are open. He recalls forgetting to close the hatch, but _no_ , that was four days ago, and he had gone back to close it again.

Four days ago was when he last had contact with someone he knew, and today was when he had contact with the Imperial Blockade. In the gloom of the ship, it feels like it’s been a lifetime.

He warily approaches the end of the corridor, red sand whirling in. He doesn’t know what planet this is, the desert climate definitely not matching the description of the one he was meant to go to.

Then something flickers in the distance in front of him, a familiar silhouette, clothes billowing in the wind.

He can’t comprehend what he’s seeing right now, overwhelmed by pure instinct.

“Wait, Seongwu, wait!” Minhyun cries out, stumbling to the entrance, only to fall onto the sand which puffs up around him like orange smoke.

When he looks up, the silhouette is gone.

 

 

 

Minhyun stands in front of the bathroom mirror, a long crack splitting his reflection, fragments scattered in the sink. Running a finger along the bony edge of his face, and onto the orange staining his uniform, he feels the acid rise as his stomach hurls, and scrambles to bend down over the toilet bowl.

Afterwards, he stands there gargling for the longest time, knowing that as soon as he spits out, he’ll be greeted by silence. Minhyun’s never been in his ship without the accompanying hum of the mainframe.

Shaking his head, he sprinkles water on his face, careful not to waste too much, and immediately starts pacing in the corridor, paying extra attention to how much pressure he applies on the metal tiles, so that he can hear the sound that echoes off the walls.

The Commissioner should know that he’s already entered the fifth galaxy, because of his approval of the Imperial Blockade, and so he should be expecting his coordinates. It would be out of Minhyun’s character not to send them promptly.

But he’s not meant to be here, and no one is supposed to know either. And even if the Commissioner did decide that he’s important enough to breach the secrecy of his unknown mission, he could be on any one of the small planets that the Imperial Mappers are still trying to account for. A farming colony is distinct.

A wasteland planet is one of thousands.

Minhyun falls against the side of the corridor, sliding down the cold metal as his head begins to spin. There’s a twisting in his chest, and his breathing comes out in short, frantic gasps.

His body wants to curl into a ball, wants to cry himself to exhaustion, wants to sleep and wake up from this nightmare.

Nightmare.

He remembers seeing Ong Seongwu, the blurred features in the haze of the cockpit that could easily be mistaken as an expression of concern. Maybe he _is_ in a nightmare. Maybe he’ll suddenly wake up, arms flailing, cold sweat dripping from his forehead. He wants to badly believe these fantasies, entertain his thoughts, rip his hair out and then fall into another nightmare.

But his mind doesn’t allow it.

That rational side of him, the side that doesn’t let him succumb to emotion, immediately starts whirring through the possibilities.

Ong Seongwu could definitely be here, somewhere, on this wasteland planet.

Seongwu _had_ managed to escape before, from _him_ of all people, so getting away from a new recruit, if he so wished to, would be a piece of cake. If that’s the case, there may be another person besides the Commissioner who knows he’s here.

Slowly pushing himself up the wall, he takes laboured steps down the corridor to the opened hatch. When he reaches the end, he falls onto the sand with a soft thud, rubbing his hand through the orange grains. Then he slaps his cheek.

This is definitely not a nightmare.

After sitting there for a while, listening to his own breathing, he lifts up his arm to check the 3D plans of his ship, the scan he had made right before takeoff, back at the police hangar. It’s barely noticeable, but there, pressed against the wall of his former cell, is the space pirate captain.

Making his way back to the cockpit, he finds the cloth on the ground. Seongwu must’ve thrown it over his face to stop him from breathing in the fumes, and then opened the hatch to air out the ship. There’s a whirring in his mind as he tries to rationalise why Seongwu had left. But he can only find traces of him being here, like missing food supplies, stripped bedsheets, and lastly, the absence of his plasma gun.

Seongwu has his plasma gun.

If he previously thought that they were in this together, then all thoughts of a possible camaraderie come crashing down.

He’s alone on a planet with someone that has no qualms about shooting an Imperial Officer. Someone who steals to survive. Someone who has no regard for the conventions of the Empire.

Minhyun can’t depend on anyone but himself.

He could stay in his ship, desperately wishing that the Commissioner sees him as important enough for a rescue team to find him. But then he would be completely exposed for Seongwu to come back and shoot him in cold blood, once the supplies he had stole have run out.

Or he could get out there, explore, and do  _something_.

His heart beats a little faster as he takes out his navigational device to do his first scan, resulting in a little scrap of land appearing in the hologram.

If he’s going to be stuck on this planet, he’s going to get to know it at the very least.

His mind won’t have it any other way.

And if he sees Ong Seongwu again, this time, he won’t be hesitating.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Minhyun raises his wrist to complete his one-hundred-and-eighty-fifth scan. Looking out over the landscape, at the rise and fall of identical dunes, his chest feels hollow, like he’s moving forward while only on autopilot.

It’s been three sunsets since he’s crashed on this planet. But the movement of the sun across the sky doesn’t equate to the time that he’s used to. There’s no power to the clocks in his ship, but he knows that it’s been far longer than three days.

Right now, it’s the middle of the planet’s day, judging from the position of the sun in the sky. But so many hours have passed since the crack of dawn, that he’s already slept twice.

And he doesn’t welcome sleep anymore.

Sleep is like a marker, indicating that more time has passed. Every time he wakes up, it’s like he’s one step closer to running out of food or water. Or he’s using up precious time walking back to the ship that could be utilised for scanning.

So he barely sleeps these days. And a small part of him refuses to acknowledge that it may be because a certain space pirate captain has disappeared from his dreams.

Minhyun surveys the hologram as the planet projecting from his navigational device builds a fraction more. He sighs when he sees how much he’s yet to explore, and the airy sound carries away with the wind.

Sitting down on the sand, past the point of caring about his uniform, he gazes over the remaining kilometres of dunes. Stubborn thoughts, the ones that tell him that everything is _futile_ , creep in at these times. But he distracts himself by focusing on his task, the one that he’s set for himself, of searching. For anything at all.

Or anyone.

 

 

 

It takes a while to trudge back to his ship, having pushed himself too hard to the point that his legs feel like blocks of lead, and his head dizzy from the heat of the sun. But when he reaches the hulking metal structure, the first thing he notices is that the hatch is open.

It’s like his shackles have been released, because Minhyun is stumbling down the dusty red dune, mind filled with the thought that the hatch could have only been left open by one person.

He stops at the entrance of the airlock to catch his breath, though his heart shows no signs of slowing down. Minhyun squeezes his eyes shut, balling his fists, and enters the ship.

He can already see the figure of someone sitting in his command chair in the cockpit.  

“Seongwu!” Minhyun shouts.

“Oh, Officer!” the familiar voice calls back, and Minhyun feels his chest tighten. “I must say that this chair is a lot more comfortable than my one in the _Constellation_.”

He’s suddenly aware of how heavily he’s breathing.

Eyes not leaving the figure, he feels for his plasma gun in the wall, but then remembers that Seongwu has it.

“Are you looking for this?” The silhouette of the gun spins around Seongwu’s finger, and Minhyun immediately retreats out of the airlock, pressing himself against the exterior face of the ship.

However the plasma bullets don’t come, and he peeks around the edge of the hatch to see the plasma gun now lying abandoned in the corridor. Seongwu is resting his chin on top of the chair, watching him in amusement. “Didn’t the academy teach you that all Imperial Officers need to be armed?”

Minhyun slowly creeps forward, reaching down for the plasma gun, not taking his eyes off the other. “Well, that’s only if I’m facing the enemy. Are you the enemy?”

Seongwu laughs heartily. “Well I’m only the enemy if you consider me to be.”

“Then tell me why you’re here, Seongwu,” Minhyun blurts out. “Tell me why you came back.”

“I will,” Seongwu assures, nodding slowly. “But if you’re now calling me Seongwu, would you still prefer me to call you Officer?”

With his hands curled around the plasma gun, grip surprisingly steady, Minhyun takes a step forward, and then another, moving towards the cockpit. “I don’t think we need formalities right now, Seongwu. But if you look here,” he gestures, crossing the threshold, “I’m the one with the gun.”

There’s a thud when the tip finds its place against Seongwu’s forehead.

Seongwu meets his eyes unwaveringly, the tension in the air thick enough to puncture with a bullet. Then he whispers, as if telling a secret, “Is it strange for a criminal to trust an officer?”

Minhyun falters. His grip on the weapon slips, echoing as it clatters to the ground. But unbreaking the other’s gaze, he breathes out, “I think it’s even stranger for an officer to trust a criminal.”

The other lets out a shaky laugh. “That’s true. But the reason why I’m here, the reason why I came back, is because I can help you. Help you leave this planet.” He pauses, pupils wavering, as if wondering whether he should continue. “But I need yours.”

Minhyun takes a step back, wetting his lips, looking at the other man carefully. There’s something different about him. Something that’s raw, open, and makes his heart twist. Something that makes him feel light-headed, like he’s floating on clouds, or thrust back into a dream.

“I’m fine without you. It’s been three sunsets since you’ve left, and I’m sure that I’ll eventually find something of use that can get me off here.”

“You won’t,” Seongwu chuckles, all the usual warmth of his tone gone. “Not by yourself. At the very least, trust me with that.”

“What’s made you so confident?” Minhyun demands. But the strength that’s supposed to be in his voice is gone, and his head starting to ache.

“Things like this are easier shown than said.” Seongwu climbs out of the chair, red sand falling from his clothes. “Unfortunately, that will have to wait until after you help me.”

Minhyun lets out a sound halfway between a laugh and a sob. “So blind faith. Blind faith is what you’re asking from me? There's nothing even out there!”

He staggers backwards, shaking his head, vision blurring with tears. His legs feel so, so heavy, and then they give out, and the last thing he sees is the space pirate lurching towards him, arms outstretched. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

_three._

 

 

 

Minhyun wakes up to a dream.

Bringing his hand up, he brushes his fingers against a trio of moles, then down to caress a sharp jawline, and across to press on chapped lips.

In a dream, nothing is real. But the illusion of warm skin makes Minhyun yearn, and makes his chest ache. He needs to be closer. He can’t let this dream slip away.  

“Don’t leave,” he whispers, and the face doesn’t go.

So he pushes himself upwards, lets himself be enveloped in warmth, and his whole body shudders as the kiss is reciprocated.

But then it’s broken, though the warmth still lingers, and he drifts away.  

 

 

 

When Minhyun wakes up, everything feels like it always does, in his bedroom in the ship, silent and dark.

He immediately sits up, preparing to leave and start another day of scanning, but then a warm hand is placed on his forehead, slowly pushing him back down.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m here.”

Minhyun allows himself to fall back, but then all his muscles tense when he recognises the voice. He shoots back up, and quickly turns to the man sitting next to his bed.

“Why?” Minhyun says through bared teeth, all the grievances he’s built against Seongwu over the past few sunsets channeling into that one word.   

Seongwu seems to freeze for a second, but then his features settle back into a familiar smile, and he reaches out to pat this hand. “Because I need you.”

“But I don’t need you,” Minhyun bites back, pulling his hand away with a rough motion, though his breath catches in his throat, and his chest constricts.

Seongwu tilts his head, and then stands up, walking over to the door, only the outline of his form showing through the soft glow coming from the corridor. “I know how to repair your ship, Minhyun. Wouldn’t that be something you need?”  

Minhyun’s mind goes blank, and he watches as Seongwu disappears. Pulling the covers off, sheets crumpling to the ground, he follows after him. “How? You’re not an engineer. What would you know about Imperial ships?”

When the other doesn’t reply, Minhyun strides up behind him, reaching out around his chest to grab him by the opposite shoulder. He turns him around, expecting another smug smile.

“What did I say about secrets, Officer?” he says, gaze not at all what Minhyun is expecting, and their faces close enough for a ghost of warmth to rekindle on his lips.

Minhyun swallows and pushes him aside, going ahead down the corridor. He can already feel his ears heating up to a deep shade of red. “Then what do you need from me?”

“I need you,” Seongwu begins, his voice echoing from behind him. “But I also need… your device.”

“This?” Minhyun turns, lifting his arm up to point at the navigational device around his wrist. “Do you even know what this is?”

“Well I’ve seen you use it, Minhyun, and seen how that small area of globe in your hologram builds,” Seongwu explains. “You’re trying to find something, and I’m also trying to find something.”

“Then good for you, because there’s nothing,” Minhyun bristles, glaring at the other man.

When all he receives in return is a smile, Minhyun exhales, releasing the tension in his face. He takes a moment to clear his head. “Why did you leave in the first place?”

Seongwu’s composure seems to falter for a second. “If I say that it’s quite hard to explain, will you still trust me?”

Minhyun looks down at the navigational device, and thinks back to all those sunsets before, trudging over sand, aimlessly and alone. Though he had convinced himself that Seongwu was like all those other space pirates he’d arrested, that he was a lawbreaker, a thief and a murderer, he’s realised that Seongwu could’ve just taken the navigational device off him while he was unconscious.

It’s like Seongwu wants him to survive too.

“Okay,” Minhyun says after a while. “For now. But we’re not suddenly equals. And you can’t just do whatever you want with me.”

His words seem to make Seongwu pause for a moment, but then he walks up to him, gesturing at the device. “May I?”

Minhyun nods in response.

“There’s something you’ve been doing incorrectly,” Seongwu suggests, carefully lifting Minhyun’s hand. He looks up. “Can you turn this on?”

“Oh,” Minhyun says, suddenly conscious of the warmth. He flicks through the various scans, bringing up the one of the planet.

“See, everything you’ve mapped out so far, it’s all the same. Just dunes, and dunes, of…” Seongwu trails off. “I believe there’s something underground.”

Minhyun looks at the hologram, suddenly unsure. “You’re saying that I should be directing my scanner to the ground, instead of in front of me?”

“I’m saying that the choice is yours,” Seongwu replies. “Will you come with me?”

Minhyun badly wants his rational side to come out, to tell him that he shouldn’t go any further, that he’s okay on his own, that he just needs to keep exploring. But there’s a longing, a need to know the reason behind Seongwu’s confidence, a want to know _more_ than he already does.

“Okay.”

 

 

 

“Well I should probably let you know some of my secrets, if we’re going to be spending more time with each other.”

Seongwu seems to struggle with pulling an aluminium plate off the wall, but when he does, it reveals a hole full of stolen supplies. “I try not to steal unless completely necessary, but I hope the fact that these never left the ship make up for my lapse in judgement.”

Minhyun scoffs, trying not to let his surprise show. “Huh, that’s a bit rich coming from a space pirate.”

Despite it being an offhandish remark, Seongwu seems to ponder over what he had said. “I suppose you could see it that way, considering that everything I’ve done is somehow illegal in the eyes of the Empire.”

Minhyun tries to counter with something about how no one is exempt from the law, but a “Yes, that’s right,” is all he can produce.

He follows as Seongwu moves around the ship, going from room to room, gathering various supplies in a bag for the journey. It’s like Seongwu’s completely at home, and he wonders how often Seongwu’s been in the ship over the past few sunsets, and whether he’d also been there at the same time.

Minhyun had been avoiding the ship as much as possible while he was alone, spending most of his time outside, scanning. But now, walking through it, metal walls echoing with the sound of two sets of footsteps and another’s laboured breathing, he feels slightly at ease.

“Ah, also... ” Seongwu jogs towards the cockpit.

When he comes back holding something, Minhyun freezes as he remembers that the plasma gun was in there. He can suddenly feel Seongwu’s warmth as he moves behind him, and he quickly whips his head around, but Seongwu’s only holding the cloth from when he’d first crashed. “If it’s okay, I’ll help you tie this around your neck so it doesn’t get sunburnt.”

Minhyun gazes uneasily at the other man, and then warily turns, slowly raising his chin. With his eyes fixed to the ceiling, he can only feel the sensation of Seongwu’s fingers lightly brushing against his skin, as the knot tightens just above his Adam’s apple.  

“All done,” Seongwu breathes out, causing the hairs on the back of his neck to stand up.

The warmth behind him leaves, but another rushes to take its place. His senses feel heightened, and as they go through the remaining parts of the ship, it’s like he’s suddenly more aware of his surroundings. So when they walk past the holding cells, his heart drops when he notices red stains on the floor, previously hidden in the gloom.

But before Minhyun can open his mouth to ask, Seongwu turns to him.

“That’s everything we need for now. I’m sure it’ll be enough supplies to last before the sun sets.” The assurance in his face is replaced by concern when he notices Minhyun’s expression. “Is something the matter?”

 _“There’s something the matter with you!”_ Minhyun shouts in his head, but can’t seem to get out.

Instead he gives a small, hopefully reassuring smile. “No, everything’s fine.”

 

 

 

Even though he hadn't wanted to believe it, Seongwu was right- everything is beginning to look the same. He didn’t pay much attention to the identicality, spurred by the prospect of finding something. 

But now, with the silhouette of Seongwu walking in front of him, he realises that he’s the only thing that changes in an unmoving landscape.  

As they trudge over the sandy dunes, Minhyun can’t help his eyes from being drawn to Seongwu’s right arm. If he hadn’t seen the blood, he never would’ve noticed how Seongwu pauses for a fraction of a second when lifting his arm to point, or how he exclusively holds the bag of supplies in his left hand, even after hours of travelling.

It seems like Seongwu is a talented actor.

“I’m positive we’ve travelled far enough to make another scan,” Seongwu mulls, turning around in time to catch Minhyun tearing his gaze upwards. Seongwu tilts his head, and then laughs. “I appreciate your interest, Minhyun, but let’s wait until after sunset shall we?”

Minhyun’s face heats up at the implication. “I was not looking at your- your-” Minhyun swallows when he realises that the other is only teasing. “Doing another scan now.”

While he scans the ground, Minhyun watches as the parts underneath the surface of the globe build another inch. He can also see Seongwu through the projected light, as he moves around to stare intently at the scanned areas. It reminds him of when he had first seen Seongwu, highlighted in the glow of his plasma gun. And the strange feeling he got when he saw his face.

“It looks like,” Seongwu pulls his gaze away from the globe, to point at somewhere to his left, faltering for only a millisecond as he raises his arm. “That way.”

Without verbal acknowledgement, Minhyun plods on ahead without hesitation. The memory of their first meeting only reminds him of Seongwu’s silhouette as he stood in front of the control board, the same one he used to see in his dreams. And then thinking about dreams reminds him of his new dreams, the ones where the outline isn’t an outline any longer…

In any case, he really doesn’t want to look at Seongwu’s back, or the lower part of his body at all.

From behind him, a voice calls out. “To pass the time, would you like to tell me a bit about yourself?”

Minhyun lets out a sigh. Seongwu talking to him as if he’s a friend is one thing, but Seongwu actually trying to have a friendly conversation is another. “Why? What do you want to know?”

“Hmm…” Seongwu ponders. “What made you choose to become an Imperial Officer?”

Minhyun laughs, keeping his eyes fixed on the never-ending dunes of red sand in front of him. “Are you having an epiphany, Seongwu? Did getting arrested make you realise that breaking the law isn’t all it's cracked up to be?”

There’s a pause. “No. Quite the contrary, actually. I just wonder how exactly a set of laws could possibly be enforced over multiple galaxies.”

Minhyun shakes his head. “Well how exactly would all the quadrants get along? If the universe was lawless, then there would be no safety, no security. People like you-,” Minhyun turns to shoot Seongwu a look, who simply returns it with a smile.

Minhyun sighs, turning back, his train of thought lost. “Why are you like this?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why are you so… okay with things?” 

“Huh. Am I?” Seongwu questions. “Maybe because I’ve already experienced the worst things in life? I’ve been in the arms of death so many times.”

Minhyun ponders his words. “I’ve faced ninety-four pirate crews, or,” Minhyun corrects himself, “ninety-five including the _Constellation_ , and I definitely don’t find that the case.”

“Well the death that I’m so familiar with comes right up to me, remorseless, without your law holding it back."

Minhyun hums. “So you’re saying that when I face danger I’m too preoccupied with other things, like if what I’m doing could get me a slap on the wrist later on?”

“I suppose,” Seongwu affirms, “but it’s not like that doesn’t apply to me as well. I’m just on the other side.”

“How?”

“If the law is my enemy, then for you it’s your friend. But if I have no control over my enemy, wouldn’t it be better to just treat it as a friend?” Seongwu lets out a laugh, as if trying to erase what he had just said. “This suddenly became about me, but I really just wanted to know about you, Minhyun.”

“Then let’s take turns asking questions,” Minhyun compromises, wanting to know equally as much about the other man.

“That sounds splendid,” Seongwu agrees. “So, how exactly do your pants fit you so well?”

“W-what?” Minhyun sputters, swiveling around in time to catch Seongwu’s gaze shift upwards slowly, almost purposely, to meet his eyes.

“See, your reaction was entirely different from mine,” Seongwu chuckles, the tone of his voice deceivingly pleasant. “Or if you didn’t carry the same sentiment as I did, you could’ve just said ‘thank you’ and carried on.”

“Thank you,” Minhyun fumes, stalking ahead even more determinedly, the thudding in his ears starting to become more than just the sound of his footsteps.

“It’s your turn to ask a question,” Seongwu calls from behind. “What would you like to know about me?”

“Why are you a space pirate?” Minhyun blurts out.

There's silence for the longest moment, until Minhyun starts to wonder if he had asked the question at all. But then there’s a noise that’s barely audible, and Minhyun has to strain his ears to pick it up. “Why do you want to know?”

“You’re a criminal. But you talk and act like you’re not. And then you’re so uneasy about things like stealing. I don’t understand.”

“Even though I steal to survive, it doesn’t mean I enjoy doing it,” Seongwu quietly retorts.  

Minhyun pauses. “Then… why?”

“You’re an officer of the Empire, but are you okay with everything the Empire does?”

He tries to put conviction in his voice. “The Empire is what gives peace and order to the universe-”

“The Empire takes galaxies and enslaves people and calls it colonisation,” Seongwu interrupts, causing a chill to run down Minhyun’s spine. “People are then forced to do things they don’t enjoy, and they’re rewarded with torture, or even death. Is that the kind of peace and order you enforce, Officer?”

The bass of his voice is lost in the wind, but the venom in his words are present all the same.

Minhyun’s too stunned by the other’s change in demeanour, not daring to turn around and face the other man. He can feel cold sweat on his back, like there’s daggers floating a millimetre away from his skin. Licking his lips, he words his answer carefully.

“Of course not. I’m just one person in this universe, so there will always be things that are out of my control,” Minhyun says, keeping his gaze fixed in front of him. “But if I had the opportunity to right just a few wrongs out of a thousand, I would leap at the chance, wouldn’t you?”

Seongwu is silent for a few seconds, before asking, voice back to its friendly tone, “Then you mean to say you’re not so much trying to push the Empire’s agenda, as you are correcting a few mistakes?” 

“Not exactly,” Minhyun clarifies. “I mean, without the Empire funding us Imperial Officers, no one would be able to correct anything, would they?”

He continues walking along, waiting for Seongwu’s answer, but one doesn’t come.

If not for the crunch of sand behind him, he would’ve thought Seongwu had simply left.

The sun’s moved another quarter through the sky, indicating that it’s been well over half a day since they’ve left the ship. Minhyun’s feet feel a little heavier with every step he takes, and his thigh muscles start to ache. When he had been the one following Seongwu, he simply passed the time by tracing the remnants of Seongwu’s trail, stepping within the small dents in the sand made by his feet, and sometimes kicking them into oblivion every time certain thoughts slipped into his mind.

But now that he can only see an unmoving expanse in front of him, with no evidence of the other man except for the occasional sound, there’s a tugging at his chest.  

“Seongwu…” Minhyun murmurs, turning to look back.

Suddenly he feels his foot sink. His eyes widen in shock, breath caught in his throat.

Then the ground beneath him seems to heave. Mouth open, he manages a small gasp.

And then he falls.

“Minhyun!” Seongwu yells, panic evident in his voice.

Seongwu lunges forward, right arm outstretched, grasping onto Minhyun’s hand which is now barely visible over the edge of a pit, desperating clawing at grains of sand.

“Seongwu,” Minhyun shakily breathes out, watching as sand falls like a waterfall in front of him, the steady sound of a million grains filling his ears like an extended _shush_.

His heart in his mouth, he musters everything he can not to let go. The point of contact with Seongwu’s hand becomes increasingly moist, threatening to slip, the strain on his shoulder unbearable. Minhyun’s feet find no ground, only air, and he keeps his eyes fixed on Seongwu’s, and the fear reflected in them.

“Seongwu-” The name comes out more like a sob, and he squeezes the wetness from his eyes, breath coming out in shudders.

The frenetic bobbing of his Adam’s Apple causes the knot around his neck to loosen, and his eyes immediately go down, following the cloth as it flutters, seemingly endlessly, until it reaches a barely visible pile of sand.

Would he also float like the cloth? Would he also be cushioned by sand?

“Just let me go, Seongwu,” Minhyun manages out, trying to put strength in his voice.

Seongwu blinks back a few times, and then his features seem to loosen slightly, forcing a tight smile.

“Don’t worry Minhyun, I can-” he lets out an exhale, voice sounding increasingly strained.

Slowly pulling, with his grasp trembling, Seongwu’s jaw muscles tighten. “I can- do this-” he sputters, scrunching his features as he attempts one big heave, but the resulting moment is filled only with a strangled cry.

Minhyun feels something warm drip on his arm, and his gaze slowly moves downwards to see blood.

“Stop!” Minhyun yells, looking at his arm in alarm. The loose fabric of Seongwu’s sleeve falls just below his wrist, but there’s streaks of red running down his hand, barred from continuing onto Minhyun’s arm by the band of Minhyun’s navigational device. “Just take my device and go!”

Minhyun’s head throbs, and he reaches up to start undoing the strap, uncurling his fingers, the strain on his muscles reaching breaking point.

“No!” Seongwu shouts, eyes wild and unfocused, and with one swift motion, and in a sudden rush of air, Minhyun is pulled upwards. He reflexively reaches out to help the other by propelling himself forward over the edge.

The sun beats on him even harder, no longer dangling in Seongwu’s shadow.

Minhyun lets out a sob as he lays there, face-first in the hot sand, arm strewn across Seongwu’s chest, and his hand still in his hold. He closes his eyes for a moment to catch his breath, the sound of sand falling still coming from behind them.

Minhyun slowly pushes himself up, arms shaking.

“Seongwu,” he whispers, voice hoarse, trying to keep it steady. The other’s eyes are closed, chest rising and falling, and Minhyun moves one knee to either side of his body, unable to gather enough strength to stand. He swallows as he reaches out to pull Seongwu’s sleeve up, but then Seongwu’s eyes snap open and he jerks it away.

“Don’t,” he gasps out, before wincing.

“You’re injured, let me help you,” Minhyun commands, but weakly.

Seongwu shakes his head. “Can’t.”

Minhyun lets out a _shush_ , placing a hand on Seongwu’s forehead to smooth out the limp strands. Seongwu tenses for a second, before allowing himself to relax, eyes drifting shut.

“It’s only you and me,” Minhyun whispers, brushing the side of his head with calming strokes.

Seongwu opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. His features tighten, before licking his lips and trying again.

“I’m truly sorry, Minhyun.” Seongwu manages.

Minhyun shakes his head, gently rubbing circles into Seongwu’s temple, before reaching out again to his sleeve, slowly this time.

When he pulls it back, it’s not at all what he expects.

The first thing he sees on Seongwu’s wrist is a navigational device, similar to his own.

“I’m not- Empire-” Seongwu struggles to say, before drawing a sharp breath as Minhyun fumbles with the wristband, revealing a reopened wound. There’s a few more cuts scattered along the length of his arm.

Examining the navigational device, he realises it’s an archaic prototype version of his own, the cover made out of a now-shattered glass, not the transparent titanium hybrid usually used by the Empire. Laying it aside, he brings his attention back to Seongwu’s wounds. It seems like he must’ve taken the glass fragments out already, because there’s evidence of stitches, now hanging loose.

Minhyun crawls over to where the supply bag is lying a few metres away. Recalling his first aid class in the academy, he rummages through the things Seongwu’s packed, but they’re all very basic. He knows that there’s more technological options back at the ship.

Bringing out a bottle of disinfectant, he hesitates before pouring. “Ah. I think this may sting.”

Seongwu smiles weakly. “I’ve gone through worse, remember?”

Minhyun closes his eyes, trying to put steel in his voice, but it comes out more like a plead. “Don’t pretend like everything’s okay.”

His hand shakes as he positions the bottle over Seongwu’s wrist, the sound of Seongwu’s cries of pain from just minutes before echoing in his ears. As if sensing his fear, Seongwu gently takes the bottle from Minhyun. “They aren’t too bad, Minhyun, I already stitched it up, just a bit of bleeding, that’s all.”

Minhyun looks away. There’s a small grunt, along with a splash of liquid, and out of the corner of his eye, he can see the rest of the disinfectant puddling into a growing dark patch. Letting out his held breath, Minhyun turns back to clean up the blood stains with a bit of gauze, and then grabs a bandage to wrap up the wounds.

After finishing up, he moves to push himself from his squatting position. “You should stay here and rest for a while, I’m going to check out the pit.”

“Wait,” Seongwu says, stopping him with a hand on his knee. “Can you- uh- if you don’t mind-”

“Not leave?”

Seongwu drops his gaze. “Well if that’s what you want, Minhyun.”

Minhyun surveys Seongwu for a second, before standing up and walking away.

He comes back with a cut of bed sheet from the supply bag, wetted with water. “We don’t want our faces getting sunburnt,” Minhyun explains, smiling quietly.

Seongwu blinks up at him, and then lets out a soft chuckle.

When Minhyun sits next to Seongwu’s uninjured side, he can feel the sand beginning to shift under his weight, and his heart starts racing.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Seongwu prop himself up. “Why aren’t you asking about what was on my wrist?”

Swiftly glancing at the other man, he receives only a steady gaze, and then he realises that nothing is moving at all.

“Ah,” Minhyun whispers, heart in his mouth.

There’s a part of him that’s tired from following his rational side, and of doing what’s expected. And pushing away his emotions, so that he can put on a brave face, and justly represent the Empire.

For a moment, to the man who just saved his life, he lets himself be vulnerable. “Because I trust you.”

Something changes in Seongwu’s composure, revealing something that Minhyun hasn’t seen before, a sudden, but gradual shift, like when sand in the airlock is picked up and carried away by the wind.

“Minhyun,” Seongwu barely breathes out. “Can you lie down next to me?”

He stares back for a second, and then responds with movement.

Finding his place next to Seongwu’s side, the looseness of the sand beneath him makes his heart pound, dense in volume, but immediately falling away under his body. Instinctively, his pinky finds Seongwu’s, curling around it as he lets out a shaky breath.

Seongwu squeezes his finger in response.

With a final exhale, Minhyun places the sheet over both their faces.

He drifts off to the sound of their breathing.

 

 

 

 

 

 

_four._

 

 

 

When Minhyun wakes, he wonders why he didn’t dream.

There’s a warmth next to his body, which feels completely foreign to him, countering the coolness he feels on his skin. It’s dark, he can tell, because sunlight is no longer filtering through the sheet on his face.

“Seongwu,” Minhyun whispers, turning.

He panics when he doesn’t see the other. But then he realises that their fingers are still interlocked, and he reaches up to pull the sheet off his face.

Seongwu is staring up at the sky. Sensing his movement, he turns to look at him. “Hm?”

The edges of his face are illuminated by moonlight, and that strange feeling Minhyun got when he had first seen him in the light of his plasma gun comes back.

But now he realises that what he was feeling was astonishment. In a parallel universe, they could have easily swapped sides, with Minhyun being the one standing in front of the control board, and Seongwu being the one with the plasma gun in his hand. Because in the gloom of the helm, the captain that Minhyun saw wasn't what he expected- deranged, scarred, or confident only because of pure age and experience.

Seongwu is as young as he is. And perhaps, as scared as he is.

“Did you sleep?” Minhyun asks.

Seongwu chuckles, eyes crinkling. “Good morning to you too.”

Minhyun can’t help but let out a small laugh. “Good morning.”

He turns on his back, looking up at the sky, the stars, and the two moons.

“This feels really strange,” Minhyun murmurs. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen the stars from somewhere that’s not my spaceship, or the station.”

Seongwu rustles beside him, turning to look up as well. “Me too. I’ve forgotten how brightly they shine.”

“Did you know that stars are one of the first things we learn about in the academy?” Minhyun says, his eyes fixated on the constellations of the fifth galaxy that he’s never seen before.

“Why is that?” Seongwu asks.

He pauses when he remembers who he’s talking to, and tries to laugh it off. “Oh, nevermind.”

“No, why?” Seongwu says, turning to him with his head cushioned by his uninjured arm. “For curiosity's sake.”

Minhyun closes his eyes, carefully wording his answer. “Well, stars are like homing beacons that show the Empire where more galaxies are.”

There’s a silence, filled only by the sound of the breeze, and Minhyun doesn’t know whether the shiver he has is because of the temperature, or the lack of response.

Then there’s more rustling beside him, and suddenly the sheet is thrown over the both of them.

“The last thing we need is you getting sick, Minhyun,” Seongwu whispers.

He keeps his gaze fixed upwards, the gloom under the sheet starting to feel a little too intimate. “You’re confusing, Captain Ong.”

Seongwu laughs, the sudden exhale of breath causing the space under the sheet to heat up. “I can say the same. There’s rumours. About an officer who’s ruthless and methodological. Did you know that one day, I found that exact same officer tracking my ship across three galaxies? And then that officer didn't even shoot me when I shot his partner?”

Minhyun considers. “Then that officer must have known that he's no different from anybody else. That no one is above the law. And besides, that officer's partner really just fainted from overwork. You can’t say that you shot him at all.”

He can feel Seongwu watching him, contemplating, before pulling the sheet off himself to leave Minhyun behind in the warmth. Minhyun listens to his own breathing for a while, and then follows. “Get back in, Seongwu, we don’t want you getting sick as well.”

Seongwu shakes his head. “I won’t get sick, my clothes are enough for the three suns in this quadrant.”

Pausing, he wonders if he misheard. “How did you know that, when even I don't?”

The man next to him stiffens.

Minhyun's eyes follow the curves of Seongwu’s face, looking for a response. He watches as his lips part, but then close, as if what Seongwu's thinking won't materialise into words.

So Minhyun fills the silence. “What did you mean, when I asked you about how you named the _Constellation_? Crumbling bodies… you didn’t really mean stars did you? I don’t know if I’m asking too much, but you can trust me too.”

He watches as Seongwu's Adam’s apple bobs, but still no words come out.

So he recollects, telling himself to change direction. Minhyun reaches over to place a hand on Seongwu’s shoulder. “How is your arm doing?”

“Let’s stop asking questions for a moment.”

Minhyun blinks, slowly taking his hand off. “Why? Is something wrong?”

The other looks at him, gaze flickering downwards. Then he exhales, turning back to the sky. “You should’ve kept that cloth on your face.”

Warmth suddenly rushes through his body, growing from his chest and colouring his cheeks. Because deep down, he feels it too.

That after sunsets of being alone, he has an unexplainable urge to be as close to Seongwu as possible, and to know him, to understand him, and feel him for what they fundamentally are.  

Because even if they come from opposite sides of the spectrum, being on this planet has brought them crashing together, into the middle, rendering them as equals.

And he wants to so badly close the gap.

But at the same time, he knows that he would be taking a step in a direction which he wouldn’t be able to take back. 

So he swallows the urge.

They lie there for a while, feeling each other’s warmth, looking at the stars, painfully aware of each other’s presence. Of each inhale, every exhale, and how their fingers brush.

And with every passing second, the need to feel something that’s not just warmth grows. Minhyun could cross a line, but would it even matter, if he wasn’t able to go back?

But just as he begins to conjure the courage, Seongwu does first. “Can I trust you, Minhyun?” 

Minhyun furrows his brow, confused. “Oh, well, that’s really your choice to make.”

“No, it isn't," he hears a long sigh. “It’s yours.”

And then Minhyun realises that what Seongwu's asking of him is different. Seongwu wants to look past who he is on the outside, and tell him the truth. It's companionship and understanding, not just on a physical sense, but on a emotional sense too.  

It's everything Minhyun's been craving all along. 

“If the trust that you're looking for is not from an Imperial Officer, but from someone who's simply under the same sky as you are,” Minhyun slowly says, “Then yes, Seongwu, you can."

There's silence for a while, and then he hears the ghost of a whisper. “This planet used to be called Cerberus.”

His breath catches. 

“There didn’t used to be a desert here. There was no sand. Actually, this isn’t even sand.” Seongwu lifts his hand up, a darkened red sprinkling through his fingertips. “There used to be people, laughter, and trees, and water.”

Keeping his eyes on the sky, Minhyun doesn't dare look around him. There’s something stirring in his memory. Rumours, biting statements, lingering last words, all heard in the interrogation room at the station.

But the Empire is just. The Empire is merciful. The Empire wouldn’t do such a thing.

That's what he had reassured himself with every single time. But it was only a lie. 

“This planet was destroyed,” Minhyun whispers.   

He hears something that sounds almost like a sob.

“Cerberus was my home.”

Minhyun reaches over and pulls him close.

Seongwu cries into the crook of his neck, in short, breathy gasps, and Minhyun tries to comfort him by rubbing circles into the back of his neck. He can’t possibly understand the pain Seongwu is feeling right now, or everything that he’s ever experienced. But Minhyun does his best to be there, to let him cry, and to let him work through the unexplainable.

Because if there’s one thing Minhyun knows, it’s that loneliness makes you feel inexplicably empty.

 

 

 

“That pit used to be a lake,” Seongwu says, voice raw.

Minhyun gets up to bring over the bag of supplies, taking out a bottle of water. “Do you recognise it?”

“There’s only one reason as to why the sand would fall like that.”

Seongwu’s sitting with his knees to his chest, the edges of his features lit in the glow of the rising sun. They had fallen asleep, Minhyun waking up occasionally to check on the other man, only to find him still sleeping. Minhyun had wondered how many hours Seongwu actually slept over the past few sunsets, realising that he's only ever seen him awake. It's like Seongwu had only just become comfortable in his presence. 

“So you’re telling me I wasn’t just blind and stepped into a hole myself?” Minhyun jokes, putting on his best wide-eyed expression.  

Seongwu snorts. “Are you trying to make me laugh, Minhyun?”

“Well I think it worked, didn’t it?”

Seongwu shakes his head. “You’re an interesting one, Officer.”

They sit there for a while, Seongwu tracing circles in the sand with his finger, and Minhyun going through the supplies in the bag. As he halves the portion of a packet of food, he wonders how much has changed between them.

Minhyun definitely doesn’t see him as an enemy any longer. He’s not sure if he ever did. Not once has Seongwu threatened his life, and thinking back, he never really threatened him at all. It was only him who couldn’t see it all this time, blinded by his role as an Imperial Officer, and what was expected of him.

It had been his duty to protect the people of the Empire, and Seongwu is simply one of those people.

“Why did you willingly give yourself up?” Minhyun asks, offering Seongwu a biscuit.

“I needed to get past the blockade, Minhyun,” Seongwu sighs, his hand absentmindedly lingering as he takes the piece of food. “I was planning on hijacking your ship, or through any other method. But then,” Seongwu reaches within his clothes, bringing out Woojin’s earpiece, “I overheard your conversation, and realised you were heading to Cerberus anyway.”

Minhyun takes the earpiece, wondering why he can’t come up with a response. As he watches the light dance on Seongwu’s features, flickering in the slow rise of the sun that the other must be so familiar with, he also wonders why his heart constricts.

Then Seongwu lets out a tired chuckle. “I may act like I’m no criminal, but everything I just said sure made me sound like one.”

Minhyun shakes his head, patting his hand. “If you were a criminal, you would’ve shot me in the _Constellation_ as soon as you saw me. You wouldn’t have tried to get arrested, just so I could bring Sungwoon back to my ship before you escaped on yours.”

Seongwu hums. “Perhaps I also wanted to see who this famous Officer Hwang was. Whether he really was as persistent as he is stunning.”

It takes a second for Minhyun to comprehend what he had just said, before noticing the familiar smile start to grow on the other’s face. He hurriedly looks away, feeling the warmness in his ears.

Seongwu reaches over to touch them. “Which part of my statement caused that to bloom, Minhyun? Was it the compliment, or was Woojin right about you having a kink?”

“I thought we were talking about the lake,” Minhyun scowls, swatting the hand away.

Seongwu laughs. “I’m just pointing out my observations.”

Then he goes back to tracing circles, finger creating small clouds of orange dust. “I also have to apologise. You’re not just any officer. I wish I was honest with you from the very beginning.”

“If you did, I wouldn’t have come to trust you like I do now,” Minhyun notes. “I probably would have thought you purposely sabotaged my ship to come here, or something.”

When Seongwu stiffens, he raises an eyebrow. “But you didn’t, right?”

“No, not me,” Seongwu hurriedly clarifies. “But... I believe someone did.”

“How would you know that?”

Seongwu looks up at him, his eyes shining from what seems like the beginning of tears. “Is it okay if I tell you everything now?”

Minhyun nods.

Seongwu reaches over to pick up his prototype navigational device. “This was made here. All of the Empire’s technology was developed here.”

“This wasn’t a farming colony?” Minhyun asks, surprised.

“A farming colony? That’s what the Empire called us?” Seongwu chuckles. “Well I suppose on the surface we were.”

He picks up Minhyun’s hand, switching on his navigational device. “I have to apologise, I did know how to turn this on.” Seongwu directs the scanner to the pit, and something appears below the globe that isn’t dirt.

“There’s rooms there!” Minhyun gasps.

“Saying we were a farming colony is half-correct. We were self-sufficient, but we worked like animals developing technology for the Empire. Above the surface, that is,” Seongwu explains. “Underground we had our own secret labs, and access to them were only possible through the lake. There was a forcefield just below the surface of the water, which the debris must have settled on, and it would’ve gotten deactivated since I was near.” Seongwu bites his lip. “I’m truly sorry, I should have foreseen it.”

Minhyun shakes his head. “Your arm is a good enough apology as it is, Seongwu.”

There’s a look of wistfulness in Seongwu’s eyes when he gives Minhyun’s hand a squeeze, and then turns back to the vast pit.

“Unfortunately, the Empire found out that we were developing our own secret technologies, so… I was sent off on the _Constellation_ to keep them out of the Empire’s hands. But when I tried to send a transmission back home, there was nothing. And then the Empire blocked all the wormholes."

Seongwu pauses, and then continues. "As for why I believe your ship's crashing was no accident, I would have to say that somebody was trying to cover up the Empire's tracks. These moles on my face," he gestures to his cheek, and Minhyun has to restrain himself from reaching out and touching them, "It’s a mark that shows that I'm from this planet. And since you scanned my face, you would've seen them as well."

Seongwu stands up, walking to the edge of the pit with the supply bag.

“But the most important part is that there’s tools down there that I can use to repair your ship. I’ve already reached home, Minhyun. Now you can too.” Seongwu turns back to smile at him, but it’s not the easy one that Minhyun’s familiar with. Instead, it looks rather forced.

Minhyun stands up to follow him, but doesn't return the smile. “What do we need to do?”

Seongwu brings a rope out from the supply bag. “The real reason why I needed you, Minhyun, was because of my arm. But now..." Seongwu hesitates. "I wish there was a less harrowing way.”

Minhyun takes the rope from him, pondering. “Don't worry about what happened, Seongwu, the pit isn’t a problem. It's just, what if I don’t want to get the tools? What if I don’t want to leave?”

Seongwu stares at him, face unreadable, and then brings a hand up to cup his cheek. “You have to go back, Minhyun. There’s nothing for you here.”

Minhyun puts his own hand over the other’s, feeling his warmth. “But there’s you.”

Seongwu breaks their gaze, shaking his head, smiling. “There has to be at least one person in this universe who can right the wrongs of the Empire. And if I could trust anyone with that, it’s you.”

Minhyun watches as Seongwu bends down to rummage through the supply bag again. He knows that everything Seongwu is saying is right. That for him, it’s only natural to follow through with what he’s prepared for in life.

But Minhyun, despite his rational side telling him otherwise, doesn’t want to do what’s right. For once in his life, he wants to do what _he_ thinks is right.

So when Seongwu stands up, holding an earpiece, moving closer to put it in Minhyun’s ear, he decides, against all laws and reason, to push forward.

There's warmth, and Seongwu sighs against his mouth.

Then the kiss becomes more fervent, more passionate, and everything Minhyun has been holding back seems to scatter and then come rushing back together in a collision of stars, dreams, and whispers.

And then there's a lull, and that's what gets to him. A rhythm of soft nibbling and desperate tugs, shared breaths and unsaid promises.

Because now they can feel each other, for who they truly are, as equals.

Just as it begins to get heated again, Seongwu accidentally brushes the earpiece deeper into Minhyun’s ear.

“- _I’m feeling so energetic-_ ”

Minhyun breaks away, shocked, and then puts the earpiece back in.

“- _out of control, yeahhh-_ ”

Minhyun holds the earpiece up to Seongwu’s confused face and utters, “Woojin.”

Seongwu takes the earpiece from him, eyes wide. “Astonishing! Somebody must have discovered a way to link all the Imperial Officers’ communication devices over a long-range frequency and-”

“Or Woojin’s on this planet,” Minhyun interrupts, seeing something in the distance.

The figure standing on a dune on the horizon starts running towards them.

Minhyun puts the earpiece back in.

“Finally! That must be the Cap, but is that someone next to him-”

“Woojin.”

The figure freezes. “Hyung?”

Minhyun lets out a breath. “Woojin, you didn’t crash here too, did you?”

Then the figure starts sprinting, and Minhyun starts running too, finally meeting mid-way to scoop Woojin in a hug.

“Hyung, you’re alive! But you didn’t answer any of my calls, and the Commissioner said you died, and-”

Minhyun pulls him away by the shoulders. “I'm dead? Then why are you here?”

“Oh.” Woojin licks his lips and straightens himself. “Officer Hwang, I am here to apprehend the space pirate captain who also unfortunately slipped through my fingers.” Woojin points to Seongwu, who’s just jogged up next to them. “There he his!”

“Woojin!” Seongwu laughs. “It’s good to see you again, how have you been?”

“Oh, not the bestest, but now that hyung- I mean Officer Hwang is alive, I think I might be doing pretty good actually,” Woojin replies, a wide grin on his face.

Then Woojin glances between the two of them, the grin becoming a little more devilish. “So you two were here. Together.”

Minhyun feels his face heat up, recalling the kiss, and he waves his hands in front of him. “Uh, um-”

“We may have been keeping each other company,” Seongwu grins, nudging him with an elbow.

Minhyun can’t help but laugh. “Perhaps.”

Then that rational side of him kicks in. “But how did you know Seongwu was here?”

“Oh.” Woojin grabs Seongwu’s left arm, pulling the sleeve up. “The tracker chip.”

Minhyun stares at the glowing blue light in the crook of Seongwu’s elbow, realising that he's only ever seen Seongwu’s other arm. “You followed procedure?”

Rubbing the back of his neck, Woojin starts rambling. “Yeah, funny thing is, I _may_ have forgotten, but then after you dropped us off at the station, the Cap reminded me about the tracker chip, and then right before I could upload it to the system, he disappeared?”

Minhyun raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms, causing Woojin to flinch. But then he smiles. “That’s good.”

“I’m so sorry,” Woojin begins, before realising what Minhyun had said. “Wait what?”

Seongwu walks over to stand next to Woojin, with the exact same confused expression on his face.

Minhyun shakes his head, fixing his gaze on Woojin, because the other man is starting to look rather cute. “I’m saying it’s good that only you have the tracker, Woojin, and not the Empire.”

“Oh. Wait, I’m still confused.”

“Because I’m going to stay on this planet with Seongwu.”

When Minhyun glances over, Seongwu is beaming, the genuineness of his smile containing the beginnings of all those unsaid promises. He knows that they still barely know each other, and that he should be more wary, cautious, and unsure. He doesn't even know if he considers this man a friend.

But being thrust together, forced to take a glimpse of another life, made to look past the beliefs that have been shaping his own- right now, all he knows, is that he doesn't want to leave Seongwu's side. 

Woojin blinks. “So I’m not arresting the Cap?”

“Never.”

In the next moment, Minhyun finds his hand in Seongwu’s. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

_epilogue._

 

 

 

_“The murder case that has shaken the Empire for the past year has finally come to a close. Former Imperial Commissioner Jo Yoomyung was found guilty today for the orchestration of Hwang Minhyun’s death, the Imperial Officer well-known for his arrests of almost a hundred space pirate crews. Decisive evidence was recently found by the up-and-coming Imperial Officer Park Woojin, proving the cause of death to be a fatal crash brought about by the hacking of the mainframe of Hwang Minhyun’s spaceship. The motive for murder is still yet to be found-”_

The broadcast transmission cuts off as Minhyun walks out of the range of the ship. He fiddles with the earpiece to change the channel, and then continues trudging over the dusty red dunes. The sun has just set, with a band of orange glow still present on the horizon, and a chill just starting to settle in. Minhyun pulls the black cloak around himself even tighter, and brings his bag underneath, wrapping his arms around it for extra warmth.   

The journey is arduous and as boring as always, but his thigh muscles no longer ache, having been built up due to hours of daily use. Even if they did though, it wouldn’t matter, because Hwang Minhyun is going home.

It’s another few hours before he reaches the pit, which stretches out in front of him like a gaping black hole. Just being near it still makes his heart race, however knowing who’s inside makes his heart race even more. Shaking his head, he tells himself to start the nighttime procedures.

First he checks the solar panels, opening the control box to see if the amount of power generated is balanced against the amount being used. Then he rechecks the cloaking devices to ensure that they won’t be picked up by police scanners or Imperial Mappers.

He’s on his way to check the water source when his earpiece crackles to life.

“Minhyun, please come in now. I already checked everything so you don’t have to.”

Minhyun suppresses a chuckle, before taking out the earpiece and heading for the makeshift elevator. Procedure can wait until sunrise.

He’s surprised to see that there’s now walls and a roof built around what used to be just a hover platform. When he goes to operate it, he finds a note tucked in the control box. He doesn’t know why his heart flutters even though the same exact thing is there every time he comes back. Maybe it’s because what’s in the note is so carefully thought out every single time.

As he steps out of the elevator, cheeks raised from reading, he notices something white flapping in the wind. Upon closer inspection, he realises that it’s the cloth from a lifetime ago, finally unearthed from a year of sand being blown across the pit. He plucks it out and puts it in his bag.

Then he crosses the expanse of the pit to the far side, no longer needing to use his navigational device to find the entrance. On the rocky wall, the symbol representing the people of Cerberus is carved. He uses his finger to trace the three dots in the correct triangular pattern, watching as they glow and the rock face gives way to reveal a tunnel.

A familiar silhouette is already standing there, black clothes billowing in the entering wind.

“So you think my eyes are brighter than the stars?” Minhyun smirks, walking towards the silhouette, back-lit by the warm glow of the room behind.

“You’ll find that I wrote ‘ _the stars have no business trying to outshine what’s already the brightest’_ ,” Seongwu smiles, spreading his arms wide.

Minhyun resists the urge and brushes past, heading into the room to place his bag down.

Seongwu hurriedly follows him, bottom lip jutting out. “Minhyun, it’s been two whole days since we’ve seen each other, surely I deserve a hug.”

“And whose fault is that, Seongwu? We can’t live on Woojin’s freeze-dried food and snacks forever,” Minhyun retaliates, careful to keep his gaze forward as he strolls through the lab to hide his smile.

“Huh. I was an engineer, not a farmer.”

Minhyun freezes at the sudden icy tone. Turning around, he sees Seongwu with his back towards him, standing a bit further off down the side.

“Oh, sorry Seongwu, I didn’t mean to-” Minhyun is stopped mid-sentence when Seongwu turns around with the biggest grin on his face, holding a small pot with a speck of green leaves.

“I think I want to name it Glowy,” Seongwu says.

Minhyun finally lets out the laugh he’s been holding in, and it reverberates down the tall, narrow room. Shaking his head, he begins to approach Seongwu. “What sort of name is that?”

Seongwu turns to place the plant back on the table, stroking its leaves. “It’s to remind myself of when I first saw you in the glow of your plasma gun.”

Minhyun chuckles, having heard the story many times before. “Yes, I know, you keep saying it was love at first sight.”

“It _was_ Minhyun, and you should admit it too. How could you not have fallen in love with me as soon as you saw me?” Seongwu turns around with a frown.

“I don’t think people can fall in love with each other just by looking. It was more like curiosity,” Minhyun responds.

Seongwu crosses his arms. “Well that pretty much means you _were_ very attracted to me, weren’t you?”

Minhyun takes the last few strides, and wraps his arms around the other man, burying his chin in Seongwu’s shoulder. “You mean _are._ I am very attracted to you.” Minhyun turns to whisper in his ear. “And you’re especially attractive when you’re angry.”

Seongwu chuckles. “That’s another kink to add to the list.”

Minhyun’s eyes widen, and he feels his ears grow hotter. As if Seongwu had already expected it, he places a quick peck on his ear. “And that’s why I love-”

Suddenly the alarms blare. Minhyun quickly pulls away, running down the length of the lab to check the main computers.

He lets out a deep sigh when he sees who it is.

“Woojin, what is it? Is it something important?”

“Uh,” Woojin wrings his hands together on the main screen, looking between Minhyun, and then Seongwu, who’s just jogged up from behind. “Sorry hyungs, did I interrupt you two again?”

“Just let us know, Woojin, it already happened,” Minhyun sighs.

“Well…” Woojin trails off, looking somewhere to his side. “Come on Jihoon, you tell them.”

The man Minhyun’s seen a couple of times in Woojin’s transmissions pops up into view. “Hello Woojin’s hyungs! I just wanted to let you know that the Imperial Police Force upgraded their systems recently, so I won’t be able to hack the blockade for a while until I figure out a new loophole.”

“You were meant to put it in a nicer way,” Woojin mutters. Turning back to the screen with a sheepish expression, he explains, “So yeah, I may not be able to bring some more supplies for a month, but I’m still hoping you can help me out with my cases, hyung?”

Minhyun is about to tell Woojin off, when Seongwu suddenly pipes up, holding the pot plant. “That’s okay, Woojin! If you see right here, I’ve managed to grow something in the soil you sent us.”

“Oh nice! That’s great hyung, okay, I have to go now, but I’ll send over the new cases, and yeah! Bye!” The screen goes black.

Minhyun suppresses an eye roll, knowing that he’ll be spending the next few sunsets pouring over those cases.

Suddenly there's a rush of warm air, tickling his ear. “Now that you're back, Minhyun, there’s something I’ve been meaning to show you.”

Seongwu puts his hand into his, and starts leading him down the room. “I’ve only finished it today, but it seems to have coincided perfectly with all those new cases you’ll be receiving.”

If anyone else but Seongwu had reminded him of all the work he's still been secretly doing, he would’ve scolded them immediately. But instead, Minhyun feels something growing in his chest.

The tunnel is long, ceilings high, and Minhyun isn’t very familiar with this part of the lab. But Seongwu keeps leading him down, past dusty machinery and remnants of a civilisation, until he can feel the temperature starting to drop, and a breeze picking up the strands of his hair.

“Seongwu, where-”

“Just a little further, Minhyun.”

After a few minutes Seongwu stops him and brings out a black cloth from within his clothes. “I’ll be blindfolding you from here, but it’s not anything strange, I promise.”

Minhyun nods and lets the fabric be put over his eyes.

They walk a few more minutes, and then turn a corner. “I’m going to leave you for a second, but I’ll be quick,” Seongwu calls out.

He hears a slow, mechanical _whoosh,_  and then the breeze stops, leaving only the sound of Seongwu’s footsteps as he walks back.

“I’ve put blankets on the floor, so you can lie down.”

Minhyun suddenly feels a warmth growing from his stomach, and it feels like his ears are now impossibly hot, as he lays down on the soft blankets. “Seongwu, why aren’t we doing this in our bedroom?”

“What?” Seongwu says from somewhere beside him.

Then he hears the rumbling laugh of the man as he presses up to his side. “No, Minhyun! You can take the blindfold off now!”

When Minhyun pulls it away he’s greeted by the sky.

“So you can look up at the stars without needing me to warm you,” Seongwu murmurs.

The ceiling is completely transparent, arching over the room in the shape of a dome. Seongwu’s put some hover lights around, the soft blue glow dotting the walls and casting a dappled shadow over their bodies. Minhyun watches the stars for a while, marvelling in their brightness, and then turns to the man next to him, who he thinks is even brighter.

“It’s not the same without you though. It’s you that I want, not the stars,” he smiles.

Seongwu chuckles, and squeezes his hand. “Oh good, because I feel exactly the same.”

Then Minhyun rolls over, filling his vision only with Seongwu. 

“You should’ve kept your hands to yourself,” he whispers, bringing himself closer. 

He looks down at the man who he's come to love over the past year, the way his lips part, how his eyes twinkle when his finger runs down his cheek, the softness of his skin as he caresses his jaw. It's strange to think that he had another life, when the warmness in his heart tells him that he's only been living now. 

Seongwu seems to be thinking the same, the look in his eyes holding the promises of a thousand more to come. 

Then under the sky, shared only by them, they crash together, as if there was never any gap in between them in the first place.

For in each other, they have found their home.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> thankyou for reading, i hope you enjoyed this as much as i enjoyed writing it! <3
> 
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> random trivia ; 
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>    
> \- minhyun brought around toothpaste so they were forced to brush their teeth while they were journeying, and before :*  
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> 
> and thank you for the amazing prompt, dear prompter, and the mods of sirius rising! none of this would be possible without you ;v;


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